The Proof is in the Jello
by Gumnut
Summary: "Call it what you want, but I'm not going to let you rot in that room." SPOILERS FOR 3.16, episode tag.


Title: The Proof is in the Jello

Author: Gumnut

30 Jun 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: "Call it what you want, but I'm not going to let you rot in that room."

Word count: 3449

Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR 3.16, episode tag.

Timeline: During and after the episode.

Author's note: I had a great deal of fun with this. Be warned :D I hope you enjoy it. Many thanks to all of you who support my writing. This is a fantastic fandom ::hugs to you all::

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

"Gordon, family movie!"

Alan knocked on his brother's bedroom door. "Scott managed to get that one you were hanging out for."

He waited a moment, but as he expected, but hoped wouldn't be the case, he received no answer.

'C'mon, bro, we haven't been all together for days now. Scott made his popcorn just for you." If his tone was drifting towards pleading he wasn't ashamed of it. Gordon was worrying him.

Since Penny left the Island, his brother had retreated. In pain, lacking mobility and, most of all, no way to jump in the pool, his usual de-stress mechanisms blocked, Gordon had slowly slipped backwards.

He was healing physically. Virgil monitored him regularly, and Scott was his usual worry wart self, even John was hovering, literally. They all made a point of keeping Gordon company and drawing him into Island life. But Gordon had started resisting, preferring to hide in his room. Alan was worried.

They were all worried.

Hence the family movie.

"Gordon, please."

Still no answer.

Alan's lips thinned. Screw this.

Punching his override code into the door's locking mechanism, he forced it to open.

The room beyond was in darkness, all the blinds drawn. A shadowy lump on the bed was the only indication that his brother was even there. "Gordon?"

No response.

Gordon was like a plant. He needed sunlight. This was just wrong.

"Are you awake?"

"Go away."

Well, at least that was a response.

"You coming down for the movie?"

A sigh emerged from the darkness. "Don't feel like it, Allie. 'M tired."

"You've been in here for hours."

"I'm sick, haven't you noticed?"

"You're getting better! Virgil was very happy with your exercises yesterday."

"Allie, just...not now."

Alan swallowed. It hurt to see his brother like this. Gordon was the ray of sunshine. It was like he absorbed the sun he needed and shone the rest on his family.

Biting his lip, Alan strode into the room and shoved up the blinds one after the other.

"Argh, Alan, what the hell?!"

"You need to get up. Lying in here alone will rot your brain."

"Alan, don't, I...god, just don't." His brother was struggling to sit up in bed, eyes squinting against the light. A gulp of air and he sneezed. "Aaah, shit." A groan as his one good arm wrapped around his ribs.

Alan's eyes widened. "Oh, hell, Gordy, I'm sorry!" He hurried over and helped his brother sit up. Gordon stifled another sneeze, likely brought on by the sudden bright sunlight, and once upright, hunched over on the bed.

"Alan..." It came out husky and annoyed. "I know what you're trying to do, I just need a bit of time to myself." Another groan and he tipped sideways.

Alan grabbed him and shoved a pillow in the right place to keep him stable. "I'm worried about you. Depression after this kind of injury is a nasty thing."

"Yeah, well, I just need to work this out for myself."

"This isn't like you."

Gordon's head came up and he glared. "Really? Funny about that. The whole broken body thing isn't really my thing either." His shoulders slumped.

Alan's brow crinkled and without thought, he dropped down on the bed beside his brother and wrapped his arms around him. "Gordy, we're all here."

Gordon tensed a moment, but then, as if all his strings had been cut, he slumped against Alan, his forehead resting awkwardly against his little brother's.

Whispered. "I know." An arm crept around Alan's waist and for a moment they just sat there.

Quiet. "Join us? Please, bro?"

A sigh. "Okay." Gordon struggled to straighten, his eyes blinking slowly.

A bitten lip and Alan stabilised the injured man enough to let go and grab the hoverchair. Much grunting and a painful gasp or two and Gordon was mobile, his leg sticking out at an awkward angle.

Just in time to be interrupted by John. "The movie has been postponed. Sorry, guys. Scott's needed."

"What?!" Alan glared at his brother's hologram. His timing couldn't have been worse.

"Sorry, Alan. Maybe later tonight?"

"You gonna come down this time?" Okay, so it was an angry glare he was sending at his brother, but John hadn't been down for a week.

Turquoise eyes widened at him, darting towards Gordon and back. "Sure, Allie. As soon as Scott's back."

"Be there."

Those eyes widened even more. "FAB." His hologram blinked out.

"Well, there goes that idea." Gordon sounded both defeated and pleased at the same time. He shifted the 'chair closer to the bed, his intentions obvious.

"Hey, no, you don't. You and I are going for a walk."

"Speak for yourself."

Alan grabbed the chair and spun it around. "No, I'm speaking for the both of us. Scott may be busy, but I'm here, Virgil's still here somewhere and Grandma."

"Alan-"

"Shut up, Gordon." He gave the 'chair a shove towards the door and pushed his brother out into the corridor.

"Alan!"

"That's my name, don't wear it out." He slammed the door closed behind him and pushed his pyjama-clad brother into the elevator, through the comms room, kitchen and out onto the pool deck. The sun hit both of them with all its startling warmth.

Gordon closed his eyes, his face tilting just a little in the direction of the light.

Working himself into a regular pace, Alan pushed the chair off the deck and onto one of the well beaten paths around the Island. This one headed in the direction of Thunderbird Two's runway.

"You do know that once I'm better, I'm going to kick your ass."

"Get better and you can give it a go."

"I'm okay, Allie."

"No, you're not. I know you better than I know myself, Gordon, and this is not okay."

"I just wanted some time to myself."

"You've had it. Family time due."

"What? I'm rationed?"

"Call it what you want, but I'm not going to let you rot in that room."

"Allie, I'm-"

"Shut up, Gordon."

"You know, I'm getting really sick of being told to shut up."

"Stop talking stupid then."

His brother scoffed, but said nothing more. Their walk wound around the caldera. Alan took it slow, knowing his brother needed the sun and the time far more than speed. The waves at the bottom of the cliff kept them company along with the stray gulls from the colony on Mateo.

Conversation was non-existent. Alan didn't know whether it was because his brother was pissed at him or just didn't feel like talking. In any case, it was a beautiful day and even Alan found himself enjoying the scenery.

Just as they hit the treeline of the runway, John broke in on comms. "Alan and Gordon, you might want to take a step back. Thunderbird Two is on launch prep."

"What? Why?" Alan beat his brother to the question.

"Scott needs assistance." A pause. "You might want to head back and prep a couple of tubs of D-tam gel."

"D-tam gel? Is Scott okay?"

"He's fine." The cliff rumbled as it opened. Both brothers stared up at it. This wasn't their usual viewpoint. "Just needs a little help getting out of a nuclear facility. Prep the D-tam just in case."

"FAB." His voice was a little faint and he doubted John had heard him above the roar of Thunderbird Two coasting out of her mountain.

Alan edged the hoverchair backwards as far as he could towards the cliff. This was going to be loud and blustery.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Virgil's voice on comms.

"Apparently watching your show." The familiar spark in Gordon's voice lifted Alan's heart.

"Well, don't get too close. Roasted brother smells bad."

Gordon snorted. "You'd know, Brother of the Burnt Eyebrows."

A grunt over the comms. "Last time I ever listen to you regarding fuel levels."

"That's right, blame the younger brother." Thunderbird Two slid onto her ramp and the ground shuddered as the plane was lifted into her launch position.

"I blame those responsible, Gordo." A pause. "Fingers in your ears, bros."

Alan didn't hesitate and neither did Gordon. They looked stupid, but experience was a wonderful thing.

The ground shook as Virgil fired TB2's rear thrusters and a shockwave of sound blasted over them, the great cargo plane clawing into the sky. The shockwave was followed by her backwash and both brothers had their hair tossed about. Alan grabbed the hoverchair, slamming on its brakes as he leant into the wind.

"That...never fails to impress." Gordon eyes followed his brother's 'bird into the sky.

Alan snorted. "Three kicks more ass."

"Because she has an ass for a pilot."

"Hey!"

"C'mon, Allie, we need to get back to the villa. D-tam time."

Alan swallowed. Radiation was a bitch. He had to tackle enough of it in space, but nuclear facilities were dirty and nasty.

"They'll be okay." Gordon was eyeing him.

Alan sighed. "They better be."

-o-o-o-

It seemed like forever before Thunderbird One returned to her hanger. The moment she slid into her gantry, Brains instigated a full decontamination of the craft. Beneath the pool specially designed machinery sprayed TB1 with a combination of chemicals that both washed any radioactive particles off her hull and neutralised and collected the tiny amount of waste created. It wasn't a perfect solution. If it was, hulks like that power station would no longer exist, but it prevented the Island from picking up radioactive dust.

Scott knew what he was in for. The sight of that radiation gauge slipping into the red had alarmed him far more than he'd ever let show. TB1 would have to be scrubbed inside and out. Fortunately, much of the process was automated. But there would still be some he would have to do himself.

Once he was clean.

"Scott, the d-decontamination shower is r-ready."

Yay. "Thanks, Brains."

"Alan and Gordon will meet you in the infirmary."

More fun.

"FAB."

One, finished with the first stage of her decontamination process, shifted and started her journey down to her hangar. "Oh, Brains, we'll need decontamination protocol for Two, module two and the Mole."

"V-Virgil has ad-vised."

Of course.

It was a blur of mechanics and chemicals for the next twenty minutes. A robot removed his orange uniform and likely destroyed it in a way only angry chemicals could. Other stinky chemicals washed everything from his body in a similar way to how One had been washed clean.

From there, in little more than a fresh towel, he made his way up into the villa and the vat of orange goo in his near future.

What was it with orange and radiation?

The roar of Thunderbird Two's engines heralded his brother's entry into the anti-radiation rally. No doubt Virgil would be joining him shortly.

Entering the infirmary stopped all thought.

As expected, two D-tam baths had been set up, full of the orange goop that would help counteract and repair any issues caused by his exposure to radiation. The appropriate IVs hung above the two tubs.

What stopped him in his tracks was the sight of his two little brothers covered from head to toe in that same orange gel.

That and the gel on the floor, ceiling and three of the walls.

"What the hell?"

Alan stared at him. He was mid-throw, a handful of orange gel his projectile. Gordon was sitting in his hoverchair, an equally stunned and guilty expression on his face. There was gel in his hair, on his face, his clothes and the various medical paraphernalia supporting his injured body.

"Hi, Scott." Gordon's face split into a grin.

"What do you think you are doing?" He didn't know whether to laugh, cry or explode.

"Alan calls it jello therapy."

"I did not."

"Did, too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Stop it!" Explode was fast becoming the winning option.

The room fell silent.

A splat as a glob of orange goop slid out of Alan's hand and hit the floor.

Scott just stared, eyes moving slowly back and forth between his two brothers. It took a moment, but he slowly began to realise there was something more than a simple prank involved. Alan's eyes were glistening. Gordon's grin was just that touch forced.

Gordon.

His injured brother who he had been desperately trying to drag out of his room the last few days. The brother whose name Virgil had put in a sentence with the word 'depression'. The brother he was ever so worried about.

Was covered in orange goo and grinning.

However fragile that grin was, it was something to grab a hold of and celebrate.

Something in his heart lurched.

And yes, that was a tear glistening in Alan's eye.

Aw, hell.

A moment.

A pause.

Securing the towel tightly around his waist, Scott bent at the knees and casually picked up a random glob of orange D-tam gel. He stared at it in his hand. It was harmless. It was even edible, though rather revolting in taste. It had its purpose and it did it well.

Two brothers were staring at him.

He eyed them back, a small smile curving his lips.

Gordon realised what was going to happen a microsecond before it did, but that didn't stop the orange glob from landing on his forehead.

"Aw, you rat!"

Retaliation was immediate.

Scott ducked as his little brother lobbed gel at his head and grabbed another handful of his own. This time Alan went down with it in his hair.

"Oh, you are so dead, big bro."

It went downhill from there.

-o-o-o-

Virgil hated decontamination with a passion. The whole chemical thing stunk and the sonic clean grated his bones and shook his teeth. Scott thought he was making it up, but he really could sense those subsonics and he didn't care what the laws of physics said. He could feel them and they set him on edge.

At least that part was over. Stalking through the villa in only a towel, the air cooling the water left on his skin, he smiled at Grandma as he encountered her in the hallway.

She smiled up at him and patted his shoulder but didn't say anything, walking off without a word.

He frowned, but headed onto the infirmary.

Oddly the door was shut.

He knocked. "Scott? Okay to come in."

"Sure!" A muffled sound he couldn't quite identify followed that.

He opened the door.

Something wet and sloppy hit him in the face.

What the-?!

He dropped the towel and wiped the gunk out of his eyes.

"Whoa, ho, a little too much for the eyes there, bro!" Gordon?

He blinked a little clarity and found three of his brothers coated head to toe in orange D-tam gel, along with the room, including the ceiling.

His mouth fell open, but he was denied the ability to speak.

"Twenty bucks says I can get some in his mouth, first shot." Alan.

Virgil shut his mouth abruptly.

"Nah, draw a smilie face on his chest." Gordon was grinning like a maniac. His hoverchair was still operating despite the deluge of orange goop it appeared to be carrying along with him.

But it was Scott who gobsmacked him the most. His big brother was still only wearing a towel, a no longer white towel, and it was he who shouted. "Okay!" And lobbed a series of well-aimed goop balls directly at Virgil's chest.

Virgil was still so stunned, an orange smilie face did appear quite quickly amongst his chest hair before he gathered enough sense to move.

"What the hell are you guys doing?!" He dove behind one of the baths. This did not stop another glob of gel landing in his hair.

"It's a jello war, Virg!" Gordon lobbed another volley at him and it splatted all over the wall behind the tub.

"What? Why?!"

"Because it is fun!" Alan was cackling and manoeuvring into a position that exposed Virgil to further attack.

"Virg, you may want your towel." Scott had it in his hand and chucked it at him. Of course, the towel landed on Virgil's head. He fumbled with it and hurriedly wrapped it around his waist. There were certain body parts that just didn't need to be in the line of fire.

A series of splats hit above his head rapid fire and it only took another one catching in his hair for him to finally decide to retaliate. "You are going to regret this."

"Is that a threat, grumpy bear?" Gordon knew just how to rile him up just that little bit more.

"No threat needed, fishhead, only promises." With that he reached into the tub and with his two massive hands, scooped up an enormous lump of orange goop. Standing, he shook off the immediate pummel of jello projectiles and stalked over to his injured little brother.

Gordon's eyes widened as he approached and he stabbed at the hoverchair's controls.

He didn't move fast enough.

Virgil dumped the gel on Gordon's head.

It clogged in his hair, ran down his cheeks and dripped onto his shoulders.

A stunned moment as he stared up at Virgil, and then he was laughing. Gordon laughed so hard he hurt himself and had to groan through happy tears.

Virgil's grin tried to split his face in half. When Gordon groaned, still laughing, he knelt down to support him, immediately worried he had hurt his little brother.

His reward was orange goo smeared into his hair.

The glint in Gordon's eye was a wonder to behold.

More goop flew through the air and hit him in the side of the head, his back and shoulder.

Still grinning, Virgil flicked a glob onto Gordon's nose.

That glint fired up.

Virgil ducked.

-o-o-o-

It was sometime later, after both Scott and Virgil had soaked in the D-tam and received the necessary IV solution to negate any possible effects from the exposure they had both received, that the four tired but happy brothers gathered in the comms room.

Alan sat with Gordon, his brother's healing leg draped across his thighs. All of them were sporting wet hair fresh from the showers. Virgil's was falling in his eyes due to an unusual lack of product and he was lounging at a lazy angle on the sofa across from Alan, bare chest loosely wrapped in his unbuttoned flannel shirt, a pair of striped pyjama pants his only other item of clothing. Scott was similarly casual, though his shirt was buttoned up. Alan, himself, was head to toe pyjamas with bare feet. All three of them had helped Gordon get cleaned up after their little war and Gordon was in his bedwear as well.

Virgil had ventured into the kitchen and had come out with pizza and popcorn. Something passed between their eldest brothers as Virgil handed the popcorn to Scott. Alan had no idea what that glare was about.

But now they were just waiting for one other brother who better get his ass down here.

As if on demand, John walked into the room in his usual casual pants and shirt. His eyes hit the tableau of sloppy dress and an eyebrow rose. "Pajama party?"

Scott smiled up at him. "You bet. Here for the pizza?"

John grinned. "I hear the popcorn is worth a steal."

Virgil glared at him. "Have a seat."

Scott hit the lights and the room darkened to starlight. A flick of a button and the holoprojector lit up with the movie.

What followed was a good story, good food and good company. Alan soaked it all in, watching his brothers comment on the film. He grinned and cracked up laughing when Scott of all people shoved a small glob of D-tam gel down the back of John's shirt. The astronaut was not impressed in the slightest. Scott claimed it was so he didn't feel left out.

John promised to hack Scott's phone and fill it full of porn.

Gordon asked John if he could have some, too.

Virgil threw a pillow at his head.

That prompted a short and nasty pillow fight that ended up with popcorn on the floor.

Virgil was assigned to obtain more. The movie had to be rewound.

Alan just grinned and enjoyed the show.

"I love you guys." It was quiet, soft. It came from Gordon.

The room froze.

Some monster wandered across the holoprojector but no-one noticed.

"Gordon?" Scott's voice was hesitant.

Alan gripped his brother's leg just that little bit tighter and the aquanaut's gaze turned to him.

Something was glistening in Gordon's eyes. "Thanks."

Something similar rose in Alan's throat and choked him a little. "Anytime, bro."

"Anytime."

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
